Everything's Made To Be Broken
by Maea
Summary: She always wanted him to come looking for her, but what if a case complicates her wishes...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Everything's Made To Be Broken

Author: Maeve (maea)

Rating: K

Disclaimers: "Any society that needs disclaimers has too many lawyers." - Erik Pepke (but just in case... Don't sue me, please! Nah, go ahead... sue me. All I have is a soul mate and a 16 year old daughter with the penchant for calling me "Mabs"... not too much to bargain with. I'd like to see your lawyers try to argue that in court!) I don't own NCIS: LA or any of the characters within this story.

Classification: Angst, drama, teamy goodness, Densi (!)

Spoilers/Timeline: I don't do spoilers, so if you're caught up on the current episodes, I won't surprise you with anything.

Feedback: Feedback is like a drug to me! Please, feed the monkey!

Summary: She always wanted him to come looking for her, but what if a case complicates her wishes...

A/N: I haven't written or posted fic since 2003! Eek! This is so exciting to finally get my muse talking to me again! I hope I remember how to do this... ;) Title is from the Goo Goo Dolls song, Iris.

Marty Deeks struggled through the door of the 'condemned' Spanish mission leaving the glare of the early morning southern California sun at his back. He didn't have a spare hand to remove his dark sunglasses and as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden dimness of the room, he managed to soundly crack his shin on a errant piece of office furniture. Stifling a word inappropriate for the work environment, the LAPD detective furtively scanned the room.

"Hey... somebody should move that before someone gets hurt. Anyone?"

The main office area where the agents desks were located was vacant of all personnel when Deeks arrived with a tray loaded with coffee for everyone. Cautiously, he dropped his messenger bag and began to place the paper cups on his teammates desks. A booming voice from above startled him as he cleared a spot for the last cup on his partner's cluttered desktop.

"You are a brave man trying to get coffee for her." He looked up to see Sam watching from the balcony.

"That is where you are wrong, mon frere," Deeks said, then reconsidered the meaning of his words. "I don't have to be brave. I totally got this."

"You got what?"

Kensi stood behind him, her hands perched on her hips. He swiveled again to spot Sam up above, only to see he had disappeared from sight, though Deeks had no doubt that the man had not gone far.

He picked up the white cup and handed it over. "Coffee. My treat."

Though she accepted the coffee, her movements reflected her wary trepidation and she breathed in the aroma through the small drinking hole as if she suspected it was spoiled. Or poisoned. Or a bomb. "Why?"

"Do I really need a reason to buy my partner coffee?" Her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Oh come on! Its not a trick, Kens. I picked some up for the whole team," he said with an exasperated sigh and motioned to the identical cups on the desks of Sam and Callen.

"Bold coffee, three creams..."

"...Three creams, one raw sugar and two normal sugars, with the sweeteners added *before* the creamers," he finished for her.

"Well, if you add the creamers first-"

"The sugar doesn't dissolve completely in the hot coffee." He smugly grinned at the surprise on her face. "Basic principles of coffee thermodynamics." As almost an afterthought, he added, "You do know you can't call yourself a 'low maintenance girl', Princess."

"What! I am totally low maintenance!"

"No. Not at all. A low maintenance girl orders her coffee black, or my personal favorite, no cream, two sugars."

She scoffed, "You have a favorite way a girl orders coffee?"

"Two sugars takes the edge off the bitterness. It smooths out the coffee, but the real kicker is the no cream. Tells me the girl is a real coffee purist."

"You've got to be kidding... "

"But you, my dear Kensi, your coffee order just screams high maintenance. More than three modifiers, with specific direction on how to add said modifiers. It's over the top," he blew gently on his hot beverage before taking a drink. Though he attempted to appear carefree, the look his partner was giving him caused Deeks to take a step back widening the gap between them into what he hoped was a safe distance away.

"Just because I'm particular about my hot beverages, does not mean that I am any less than easy going."

"It's not just hot beverages. It's your mixed drinks, your sandwiches, the waffles the other day at Pancake House. Hell, even your shots of liquor are complex. It's one ounce! It should be the easiest thing a bartender has to make! And please, do not get me started on your Fatburger ordering. Last time we were there you made the girl taking your order cry, for pete's sake!" He watched as she followed his lead and took a tentative sip from her hot coffee. "How is it?"

Her smile, a look of pure annoyance to the question showing clearly on her face, was an expression he knew well. "It's fine," she answered.

He could tell she was attempting to keep her tone level and collected. Deeks knew that she was nearing her breaking point, but couldn't stop himself from prodding further. "It is really fine? Or are you just saying that to appear less high maintenance?"

With swift precision, Kensi punched him in the bicep, then settled her cup on a stack of case folders to pull her ringing cell from her back jeans pocket. "I. Am. Not. High. Maintenance." She finished her conversation with him through clenched teeth, then tapped the accept button on her iPhone. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was female and the tone was terse. "Kensi?"

"Yes?"

"Kensi, it's Helen," the woman paused, briefly considering whether she needed to continue. When Kensi did not reply, she explained further. "Jack's mom."

Her answer came out no louder than a hushed whisper. "I know." Suddenly, she was acutely aware of her partner studying her intently and would have given anything to have taken this particular phone call in private. But she knew that he would never, private conversation or not, allow her to walk away now without a fight. Kensi cleared her throat, willing her voice to behave. "It's been a while. What can I do for you?"

"It's Jack, Kensi. He's... he's missing."

The rough tough secret agent prepared herself for the worst the moment Jack's name was mentioned, but Helen's information made absolutely no sense to her. "I know, Helen. That's also been a long time..."

Kensi remembered Jack's mother as a tall, proud, stoic woman. She hardly showed any emotion when the police told them both they were calling off the search for Jack six years ago, so she was heartbroken to hear the small, panicked voice on the other end of the line. "No, Kensi. He's been back for a while now. I'm so sorry I never told you."

As a NCIS agent, Kensi Blye had been struck many times. She found out early on that a man determined not to go to jail would not go easy on her just because she was female, but the confession from her ex-fiance's mother caused the air to whoosh out of her lungs faster than any punch she had ever received.

Deeks watched with concern as the color drained from her face. Slightly lightheaded, Kensi bent over putting her free hand on her knee trying to stabilize the wobbly room, and quickly realized that she was the one that was shaking. He gingerly took her arm in alarm, but she brushed him aside.

A shrill whistle brought Kensi back to ground. She looked at the balcony to see Eric, in his favorite multi-striped Baja hoodie, standing next to Sam who, from the troubled furrow in his brow, had obviously witnessed the whole phone conversation from afar.

"Lets hustle kids! We have three dead marines on leave from Pendleton."

Kensi stared blankly for a moment at the geeky computer tech, then focused back on the phone. "I'm at work, Helen. I'll have to call you back." Ignoring the fear in the other woman's voice, she calmly ended the call and, with a confidence she did not feel, took the steps to OPS two at a time. Deeks could only grab the coffees and follow behind, completely bewildered at what had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: Thanks for the reviews and alerts! definatley helped me get this uploaded a bit quicker!

Chapter 2

Kensi and Deeks reached the Operations Center of the Mission last and upon entering, Kensi moved to the far side of the room, away from the concerned glances of both her partner and Sam. Handing the former NAVY SEAL his Caramel Macchiato, the two men had a silent conversation about the young female agent, ending when Deeks shrugged his shoulders indicating he had no idea what that was all about. Sam could see that, though the man's actions would seem flippant to an outside observer, the sudden aloofness of his partner weighed heavily on his mind.

Eric cleared his throat to begin talking, quite oblivious to the observation of Agent Blye by her two teammates. Typing quickly on the keyboard in front of him brought up the military ids of three men. "Here we have Corporals Hayes Kilgore and Tucker Buchanan and Staff Sargent Tim McLelland, Third Battalion, Fifth Marines Division. Recently returned from the Gulf with orders to ship back in less than a month. All three were here on a weekend leave pass." Continued typing overlaid those photos with crime scene images of three dead men. "They were found dead about an hour ago in an alley between Hollywood and Selma by a jogger. The ME on site says that they died from exsanguination due to multiple gunshot wounds. Estimated time of death is..." he read from the tablet in front of him, "less than three hours prior to the discovery of the bodies."

"That puts it after three am, just right about the time bars are letting out. Robbery gone wrong?" Callen began the process of group hypothesizing.

Eric shook his head and magnified one of the photos. "Unlikely. Though all the men had their wallets taken, whomever did this left a rather expensive watch on Staff Sargent McLelland."

"Maybe the guy panicked. He may have thought that many gunshots would have alerted passersby. First rule of robbing: Get the money and get away," Deeks added.

Again, Eric signaled a no. "That's the interesting part. This alleyway is less than a block from a bustling area of Hollywood, yet there are no witnesses stepping forward. Not one mention of hearing gunshots in the vicinity last night."

"That's gotta be rare in this area of Hollywood. Possible silencer?" Sam moved closer to the screen and zoomed in on the bullet wounds in the photos. "Close grouping of the wounds, that takes training and a steady hand, not something your average street thug has. These men were not killed by an amateur, but how does one kill three experienced Marines without them showing any signs of defensive wounds. Kensi?"

All turned to the silent woman in the room, who seemed lost in thought. The light of the multiple plasma screens in the room intensified the sickly pallor that lingered from her earlier phone conversation. Callen, unaware of the earlier drama, realized something was up.

"Kens?"

At Callen's insistent tone, she finally tore her gaze away from the bloodied images, and took a shaky breath. "Depending on the exact order in which they died, it looks like Buchanan and Kilgore were farthest from the shooter at the time. The stippling of the wound on Tim is indicative of a much closer range."

They all paused and considered the information they had gathered, studying the plasma in silence.

"Take out the closest man in an ambush and the other two don't know what hit them," Deeks spoke but his gaze never left his partner as she inspected the picture of McLelland. "What do you see?"

She frowned, pulling the wide angle of the crime scene into the forefront on the screen. "I don't know... there's just something not right here."

Hetty finally spoke from her seat to the left of the group. "Hollywood PD is holding the crime scene for you. I'd get a move on; they're not known for their patience."

The agents collectively started moving towards the door, until Nell's voice stopped them. "Hold up, guys."

"Yes, Miss Jones?" Hetty questioned.

Nell swiveled her desk chair away from the surveillance video she had been scanning, but not before sending it to the main screen. "I found this traffic cam video from just after one am. These are our dead Marines leaving Kitchen 24 on Cahuenga, but look... There's four men."

Although grainy, the video indeed showed that there were four men leaving the Hollywood diner. It appeared they were acquainted as they were laughing and jostling each other in a friendly manner.

Nell paused the video and Sam brow furrowed, a slight frown forming as he squinted at the unknown male. "Our possible killer?"

"I was able to run facial recognition on him and he's a former Marine." She pulled up the OMPF, and though the mystery man's hair was longer and the curls a bit unruly, the jacket picture was clearly the man in the video. "Former Lance Corporal Jonathan Jaskolka. Served in the same unit as the other three, but medically discharged due to..."

Kensi gasped, her mouth hanging open, "Due to PTSD."

"That's right. How did you know?"

She stared, her eyed wide with shock, at the frozen video image as if she had seen a ghost. "I used to be engaged to him. That's Jack."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey everyone! I had a small issue with my iphone (where I was writing this story on the notepad) and I took it in for service, not realizing that notepad wasn't something backed up on itunes. Needless to say, I lost the story and got really frustrated. A nice review the other day from That Aussie Gurl really helped boost my muse and I'm going to try to keep this one going! That being said, this chapter is kinda short, sorry!

Chapter 3:

The Ops center was uncomfortably silent after Kensi's surprising announcement. Deeks could only stare at his partner with his mouth open, while sneaking glances at the surveillance still, trying to figure this mystery guy out.

"You're certain of this, Miss Blye?" Hetty questioned, her gentle tone a stark contrast to the obvious inner turmoil of Kensi.

She chewed on her nail, nodding her affirmation. As almost an afterthought, she added, "Even if I'm not, what is the chance that the software is wrong?"

Nell perked up, "Facial recognition only 'works' under optimal acquisition conditions. As soon as pose, lighting and occlusion are included, the performance quickly deteriorates... Oh, that was rhetorical wasn't it?" Blushing at her mistake, she busied herself on her tablet, getting important information for the agents. "Records show that Jaskolka has been living in Torrence with his wife, Layla Morris Jaskolka for the past three years."

"Kensi and Deeks can check out the crime scene and Sam and I will interview Jaskolka's wife-"

"No." Everyone stopped to look at Kensi.

The director of OSP's lips quirked up in a mild smirk at the initiative of her younger agent. "No? Miss Blye?"

"Hetty, I know- knew Jack. I was there for his PTSD treatment and recovery process. If he's relapsed or snapped, I'll be able to see the signs better than Callen or Sam."

For a moment, they all thought that Hettty would deny Blye her request, but that moment passed quickly, "Agreed. Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen, your contact person at the crime scene will be Detective Thomas."

Sam and Callen gathered their coffees and belongings, nodding to Hetty.

"I sent the address of the wife to your smartphones, Deeks and..." Eric began, then realized that Kensi had already rushed from the OPS room. Deeks shrugged, and the tech continued. "Nell and I will dig up more info on the three marines and Jaskolka."

The rest of the agents filed out of ops towards their respective destinations and the LAPD Liaison was eager to catch up with his partner.

"A moment of your time before you go, Mr. Deeks," Hetty's voice raised above the noise of the mass exit. Marty reluctantly held back.

"I'm sure that this doesn't need to be said..."

"Then can we not say it? I'll take care of her - this - everything." Hetty's eyebrows raised in surprise at his tone. "Look," he quickly tried to cover his ass, "I know that she is personally invested in this case..."

"Know this, Mr. Deeks. I need to be kept apprised in how compromised she is by this case and I need you to know that if you fail to 'take care' of 'everything', no amount of back talking will get you out of the world of trouble you will find yourself in. You are in charge of your side of the investigation. Do you understand?" He nodded meekly. "Dismissed."

Deeks took a step, then looked back to Hetty. "Hey, is there any chance I can get you to tell her that I'm in charge? A text... a phone call... a quick note jotted on some fancy letterhead...?"

With no further word, the older woman turned and walked away.


End file.
